


where you're coming from

by buttcasino



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fen and Josh and Penny 23 are mentioned but not present, Fix-It, Getting Back Together, M/M, POV Margo Hanson, Post-Canon, Resurrection, Sorry To This Man (Charlton), Taco Bell, fuck season 5, what would happen if they weren't pod people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttcasino/pseuds/buttcasino
Summary: Margo returns to the Physical Kids cottage just in time to stop Eliot from hooking up with Charlton (thank god). Oh, and did she mention that she has some big news about bringing Q back from the dead?Featuring a resurrection, a visit to Taco Bell, and a happy ending for everyone (maybe even Charlton).
Relationships: Margo Hanson & Eliot Waugh, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 51
Kudos: 158





	where you're coming from

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this fic in like 24 hours (while working on like, three other fics, oops) after I saw [a tweet](https://twitter.com/bikingmargo/status/1288171661540220928?s=20) about what Margo would've thought about the concept of Eliot and Charlton together, which made me laugh so much, I was like, you know what, I have to write something about that. And then I just used it as an opportunity to ruminate on everything that annoyed me about season 5, which was, well, you know, everything.
> 
> Enjoy!

What the fuck? Margo is back on Earth after an admittedly not _brief_ absence, but it hasn’t been _that_ long. Creating an entirely new world and then having to figure out all the logistics keeps a girl busy, okay? 

And yet, she tracks Eliot down to the Physical Kids cottage (okay, sure) because he has for some reason taken a job as a _Brakebills professor_ , which, ignoring the fact that none of them even graduated—is Henry that hard up for employees?—is something that Margo doesn’t need to see to instantly know is _all wrong_ for Eliot. It’s a major cry for help.

And as if all of that isn’t bad enough…he’s apparently minutes away from boning down with _this rando_?

“Get off him, you perv!”

Margo, for lack of any other ideas, grabs a pillow and starts whacking the creep who is taking advantage of Eliot in his vulnerable state. 

Look, she’s all for banging it out when you’re feeling sad, but this is just _too_ pathetic. She won’t stand for it. Sometimes Eliot doesn’t know what’s good for him. This is absolutely one of those times.

“Fuck! Bambi? What are you doing here—hey, stop! It’s not Hyman!”

Eliot looks pissed, but she achieved her goal of getting them to stop pawing at each other. Ugh. 

“Believe me, I know. Fairy eye, remember? I saw _that one_ lurking over there in the corner like the fucking sex pest he is. He scurried off when he saw me.”

Neither of them are exactly averse to voyeurism, Margo knows that for a fact, but in this context...absolutely not.

Eliot agrees.

“ _What_?”

“Yeah, disturbing as fuck, but actually not my main concern right now. This guy right here? He lived in your head for like six months and now he’s got a body on loan and is trying to jump on the dick of basically the only person he’s met in like a thousand years? It’s weird. Back off, Templeton.”

This finally gets a response out of Eliot’s weird little shadow—seriously, he has like, zero personality, which isn’t really his fault, she supposes, but it’s _not_ a turn-on in the slightest. He manages the nerve to give a weak glare in her general direction.

“It’s Charlton—”

“Sure. _Charlton_. You seem. Well, you’re… _here_ and uh, eager and available, I’ll give you that. And I get that you're probably not trying to be purposefully creepy.”

Now Eliot is glaring at her. Tough titties. 

“But the love of his life just died and he’s trying to pretend like he’s fine but he’s absolutely not. Which, as someone who literally spent months roaming around in his most fucked-up memories, I’d think _you_ might pick up on.”

“Hey! We’re both adults, Bambi, where the fuck do you get off, especially after you _abandoned me_ —wait what did you—the love of my…”

He looks nervous now, as he should. She might _kill_ him for keeping this from her.

“Oh yeah, you and Q and your epic romance? Apparently it just slipped your mind. I had to hear _all_ about it from Alice. New Fillory has literal vodka ponds, by the way. Dangerous stuff for a lightweight like her.”

Quentin is apparently not a topic that Eliot wants to discuss in front of the guy he was just about to fuck and who is clearly obsessed with him. 

“Um, Charlton…would you mind…” Eliot reaches out and pats Charlton’s hand, like he’s a little dog or someone’s grandma. Wow. Hot stuff. Margo is reeling from the chemistry on display. 

“Margo and I need to talk. Alone.”

Charlton, and really, he should really look into changing that name, blinks. 

“Oh…sure. Of course. I’ll just…go downstairs and. Write in my diary.”

Woof. Depressing shit. Charlton’s diary either has to be the most boring piece of writing ever put to paper, or he’s going full Jack Nicholson in _The Shining_ in there. 

“Thanks, Charlton. That would be great.”

And with that, Charlton mercifully heads for the door, looking behind him one last time before he goes, like he’s hoping Eliot will change his mind.

“Jesus, thank god. I thought he’d never leave,” Margo sighs, as soon as the door is closed with Charlton on the other side of it. 

“You don’t have to be so mean to him.”

Eliot is nicer than she is, sometimes too nice, but he doesn’t sound like his heart is even in it. Like he’s just going through the motions because he thinks he should. Margo’s sure he doesn’t recognize that, though. Thank fuck she’s back. 

She drops down to sit beside Eliot on the bed. 

“I’m not being _mean_ , Eliot, this is just how I am. And you like that about me! But seriously, I know you’re going through a tough time but that doesn’t mean that you have to _torture yourself_ by coming back to teach at this god forsaken school you didn’t even graduate from.” 

Eliot shrugs. Right. Whatever. Giving up on life in your late twenties is totally fine. 

He shrugs, but he doesn’t say anything, so Margo takes that as a cue to continue.

“And you don’t have to fuck this guy just because you’re feeling sad and he’s _around_. Besides, don’t you think he kind of looks like a Muppet?”

 _That_ at least gets a smile out of Eliot, even as he tries to hide it. She’s being absolutely serious, though. Quentin may not be exactly her type, but she can at least recognize that he’s stupidly cute. This _Charlestown_ person? Major downgrade. 

“Oh yeah, that’s not mean at all…” Eliot says, voice shaking with laughter. 

“You’re laughing, so what does that say about you?”

Margo reaches out to playfully shove at Eliot’s shoulder. God, it’s good to see him smiling, even if it is over something as dumb as her being mean about Charlton’s weird, blank cartoon face.

“That we’re both horrible, but we knew that already.”

She holds out her arms and Eliot hugs her, tight. It’s really nice.

“I missed you,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, I missed you too.”

That somehow gets Eliot pissed off again, and he pulls away to glare at her some more.

“Well maybe if you’d _been_ here—”

Alright. Here we go. Margo came ready for this. 

“Okay, let’s get back to that. I didn’t _abandon you_. We were constantly looking for a way back to Earth. And then once we had our little heart-to-heart where she spilled her guts—literally _and_ figuratively—I basically forced Alice to pull something out of her former-Niffin ass so I could get here a-s-a-fucking-p.”

He at least has the good sense to look ashamed, now.

“Bambi—”

“Don’t you _Bambi_ me, I just managed to talk myself down from _incandescent with rage_ to _mildly furious_ about how you confided in _Alice Quinn_ about how you spent decades railing her boyfriend in a cottage in the woods, but _your best friend_ somehow didn’t merit an FYI.” 

“...Railing?”

Eliot is visibly _offended_ by this, like, how dare Margo be so _vulgar_ about the sex he and Quentin were having. Jeez Louise, times really have changed. 

She rolls her eyes. 

“Okay, fine, _tenderly banging_ , is that better? Why did I have to find out about it from Alice, of all people?”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s gone. Okay? I don’t want to talk about it—I can’t—” 

He’s so fucking _sad_. It’s breaking her heart, honestly. So thankfully… 

“Ah, did I forget to mention this part? So silly of me. We figured out a way to get him back,” Margo says, inspecting her nails. 

The look on Eliot’s face is. Well, understandably, he’s conflicted. Margo had been there, just a few days earlier, when Alice had first come to her. 

“Don’t...you can’t,” Eliot says, almost pleading.

“Can’t I? According to who? Jane Fucking Chatwin? Since when has that duplicitous self-serving witch been known to tell the truth about anything?”

Margo actually wants to go pound down the door of Jane Fucking Chatwin’s stupid house and give that good-for-nothing meddler a piece of her mind, and her stupid _Dark King_ brother, too, for that matter. But she figures that can wait until Quentin is actually back, safe and sound. 

“El, look. I get it. You were traumatized and exhausted and no one else was—I’m sorry. We should’ve tried this sooner. We all love him. And we can get him back.”

“You can’t promise that,” Eliot whispers, gripping a pillow to his chest like it’s all that’s holding him together.

“I mean...I guess you’re right, but. I feel confident about it. Alice and Julia say it’ll work, and I’d say that’s like a ninety-nine percent guarantee.”

Alice and Julia had teamed up with Kady on this one, and their combined knowledge and take-no-prisoners attitude had been something to behold. Quentin is coming back. They will not take no for an answer.

“Sure, let’s just conveniently ignore the times Alice and Julia fucked us over—”

“They wouldn’t do that, El. It’s _Quentin_ —”

At this point, Margo knows Eliot is scared, and searching for any reason to not get his hopes up. She runs her fingers through the curls at the back of his neck, soothing. She knows he likes that, and sure enough, he visibly relaxes, though Margo knows better than to think he’s giving in completely just yet.

“You went to _Julia_ before you came to me—” 

She sighs.

“Yes, I went to Julia first, because I knew this is how you’d react and I wanted to be as sure as I could that it was going to _work_.” 

Eliot’s mouth trembles. 

“Bambi…if we try and it doesn’t…I don’t think I can—” he struggles to explain, but Margo knows. 

“I get that, El. Really. But we have to try. He would, for us.”

As much as he would argue to the contrary, Eliot really is so brave, and Margo admires him for that, even if sometimes his bravery comes at the expense of his own safety. So she’s not surprised when after a moment, Eliot takes a deep breath and straightens up on the bed. He looks like the high king he still is, always, to her. 

“Yeah. Okay. You’re right. As usual.”

Music to her ears. 

“Of course I am. Everyone's ready when you are so why don’t you get dressed and let’s go resurrect a nerd.”

Eliot immediately goes to his closet and seems to despair at the options. 

“Shit. What is one supposed to wear for an occasion such as this?”

“Resurrecting your soulmate? Shit, El, don’t look at me. Bringing people back from the dead, sure, been there. Soulmates? Fuck me, no idea. Not sure I’ll ever have one of those. Well, I mean, there’s you, of course, but in the like, capital R romance category…eh.”

Eliot cards through his shirt hangers with false casualness. 

“Oh? So you and Josh…” 

“Oh, even try to pretend like you give a shit about me and Josh,” Margo scoffs. 

“I’m just trying to be _supportive_ , since you bit my head off the last time I inferred maybe something was weird there. And yeah, maybe my timing wasn’t the best, considering I had just accidentally murdered him with a swarm of bees—”

“Yeah, yeah, and he was fine,” Margo waves her hand in the air to dismiss the matter. “And thanks for the _support_ , but you can go ahead and be smug about how you were right. It’s over.”

Eliot, to his credit, only looks a little smug, and the first thing out of his mouth is, “Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah.” Margo shrugs. “Once things settled down and I got some of that fresh, new world air, I realized. He’s a good guy and he’s surprisingly good in bed, but I think I…got a little confused on the rest of it. It was a weird, intense time for everyone.” 

She doesn’t specify, but she knows Eliot knows the _weird, intense time_ refers to the months he spent possessed by the monster, and she also knows that no one had a weirder or more intense time than Quentin did.

“Yeah. I’ve heard,” is all Eliot says, as he turns back to his clothes. She can’t blame him. She can barely even think about it. 

“So, that one’s in the books. No hard feelings.”

Eliot continues to search for a shirt and a tie combo that apparently says _welcome back from the dead, now let’s gently ravish each other for the rest of our lives_. Well, that’s what Margo assumes he’s going for. That’s what she’d be going for, if she were him. 

“Anyone new you’ve got your eye on, fairy or otherwise? I mean I know it must be slim pickin’s in New Fillory, but.”

He’s clearly desperate to talk about something, anything, other than the fact that he’s putting on an outfit to attempt to bring his main squeeze back from the literal dead. Margo’s more than happy to indulge him, but this particular topic might get _slightly_ awkward.

“Are you…sure you want to talk about this right now…”

“God, yes, please. Distract me or I’ll never be able to do this.”

Margo stretches out on the bed and props herself up on her elbow, with her head resting in her hand. She’d told Julia that this might take awhile, so it’s not like they’re in a rush. The resurrection attempt will start when everyone is good and ready.

“Well…New Fillory is a brand new start, you know, different laws and rules and traditions.”

“Yeah? Sounds great.”

“Yeah. So, one of the things that we’re doing differently is. Marriage.”

She pauses to let that sink in. “Well thank fuck for that,” Eliot says, not looking at her, as he’s holding up two ties for inspection.

“Uh huh. And that would include...existing marriages from old Fillory,” Margo continues, deliberate. “Like, they’re being rendered null and void, unless the couple wants to opt in. Like, Jesus H., you should’ve heard Tick when he thought we were gonna make him divorce his wife—”

“Bambi, I know I asked for this information, but if you don’t get to the point—”

Well, shit. Here it goes. 

“El, I hope you don’t mind because I’m thinking about fucking your wife. Or, well, ex-wife, since uh, also, she wants a divorce. Surprise.”

That finally does get Eliot’s full attention, and he turns around to face her. He blinks once, and then lets out a huff of laughter. 

“Bambi…it would be an absolute honor if you fucked my soon-to-be-ex wife, as I would of course be thrilled to grant her a divorce. Good for her.”

Well. It’s not like Margo was _nervous_ to tell him, or even that she or Fen needs his _permission_ , but it is nice to hear. 

“Fantastic. I know Fen will be relieved. She really wanted your blessing.”

“But not you, huh?” Eliot asks, sounding amused as he starts to don his carefully selected attire.

“I mean, I wasn’t really worried about it, especially after I heard about you and Quentin—”

Eliot’s fingers slip on the buttons of his shirt. 

“There is no _me and Quentin_. There was, and maybe there still could’ve been, but. I fucked that up.”

Always with the self-flagellating dramatics, this one. 

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” Margo says, sing-song and, yes, she’s fully aware, annoying as all get out. 

“Bambi, that’s not. _Fuck_ ,” Eliot grumbles, as his uncharacteristically clumsy fingers fumble with the knot of his tie. 

“Here, let me do that for you, baby,” Margo coos, hurrying over to him. 

“He’s with Alice. That’s fine with me,” Eliot says, but it doesn’t sound like she’s the one he’s trying to convince. “God, that’s. It would be fucking amazing. I just want him alive and safe and happy.”

She believes him, really. She knows that Eliot would gladly give up a future with Quentin just to see him back. She’s just willing to aim a little higher on his behalf, that’s all. 

“Hm. Okay, you’re done,” Margo says, adjusting his tie. She runs her hands over his shoulders and steps back to give him a once-over. 

“Perfect. Devastatingly handsome as ever. Q won’t know what hit him.”

Eliot rolls his eyes. 

“Also,” Margo continues, because when has she ever shut up when Eliot wants her to, “I think Alice sees it a little differently. Just sayin’.”

Margo’s not going to go into detail about her drunken tell-all with Alice, since it’s not really her business to be spreading around. But she _does_ feel it’s within her scope, as a best friend, to give Eliot an accurate view of his own place in this whole saga, since he’s determined to play it down.

“Q got back together with her. He made his choice,” Eliot insists, his jaw set. 

He is _such_ a stubborn asshole sometimes. She gets it, she does, but _man_. He is lucky she loves him.

“Then I guess it’s up to Q, isn’t it?” Margo says, tugging gently on his tie. “So let’s go find out.”

It’s as if the reality of the situation hits him again, and Eliot clutches at her hand against his chest and then nods.

“Yeah. Okay. Fuck, I guess we’re doing this?” 

“Oh, we are _doing_ this!” Margo shouts. “Let’s go. We can use the portal in the—”

“Oh, shit.” 

Eliot stops in his tracks. 

“Eliot Waugh. Do not tell me you’re having second thoughts. We can and _will_ do it without you, I just wanted you to be there—”

“No, no, it’s just. Charlton,” Eliot says, as though that explains anything at all. 

Who? Oh, right. Him. 

“Oh my god, forget about _Charlton_. You’re gonna have your dream boy back—”

“I’m not—okay forget it, I’m not arguing with you about that. I’m just saying, I can’t just, you know, ditch him. He doesn’t know anyone else so if I just leave, he might freak out.”

Jesus. What is he, a rescue dog? 

“You really are too nice for your own good,” Margo sighs. 

“Let me just...go tell him I’m leaving, at least, okay? Meet you outside?”

“You have two minutes. And yes, I will be timing you.” 

Eliot, to his credit, makes it with 29 seconds to spare.

-

And so here they are. The Neitherlands. Still gloomy, still unnaturally quiet. Yeah, this place sucks. Zero star experience. But it does the job. 

Margo had nodded along when Alice explained how they could get Quentin back by casting some hugely complicated, multi-person spell, in the Neitherlands, but she was exhausted from working non-stop on getting back to Earth, and already already thinking about how she had to get to Eliot and let him know _hey, guess what, Quentin’s maybe not dead for good, despite what everyone told you for months,_ so _sorry about that_. 

Some of the finer points of the plan may have escaped her. 

“They’re going to…do their thing, and then he’ll just. Appear out of one of these fountains. Like, his body will be. Restored, and everything. And then we just pull him out and it’s like _hey Quentin, what’s poppin’_.” 

Eliot snorts out a laugh. “Wow. That sounds like one of _my_ papers on theoretical spell applications for Sunderland’s class.” 

“Hah. I’ve been busy, jackass. Brain on overload. And when you’ve got Julia and Alice, and then they bring in Kady…believe me, I was _not_ needed.” 

To her point, she and Eliot are now standing there, waiting for instructions while their three friends run around setting things up and giving orders to some impressively badass-looking hedges, who all jump to attention at every word out of Kady’s mouth. Good for her.

Normally, Margo isn’t one to sit back and take orders, but she’s been doing nothing but giving orders for months as she created a new world from scratch, thank you very much, so it’s nice to have a break and let some other competent people take over. And her main job, always, is to make sure Eliot is okay. 

“Fuck. I’m scared,” Eliot mumbles, as he shifts uneasily from foot to foot. 

“I know. Me too,” she says, and takes his hand and laces their fingers together. She’s not afraid to admit it, not to him.

“What if it doesn’t—“

“El. Stop. That’s not helping anyone.”

As if she heard someone being _not positive about the mission_ , Julia, looking determined and flushed with purpose, runs up to them. She has her hair pulled back in two little french-braid pigtails, which she manages to make look badass and no-nonsense. 

“Okay, are you guys ready?”

“Is it uh. Possible to be ready for something like this?” Eliot asks dryly.

Julia shrugs. 

“Probably not. But if it makes you feel any better, me, Alice, and Kady will be doing the hard part. All you have to do is wait for our signal and then. Go grab him.”

Margo squeezes Eliot’s hand. 

“See, El? All you have to do is not flip your shit for the next—how long will this take, exactly?” 

That last part is directed at Julia, who shakes her head. 

“Not sure. Could be anywhere from five minutes to an hour. One of Alice’s Library contacts said it could take days,” she says, her tone apologetic.

“ _Days_?”

“Yeah. Unlikely, but. Hey, don’t worry.” She reaches out and places her hand on Eliot’s arm. “We have some powerful hedges who can tap in for us if we need them to. I promise, we’ve thought of everything. Okay?”

Faced with Julia’s unrelenting confidence and optimism, Eliot has no choice but to give in. 

“I. Yeah. Okay,” he agrees. 

“Great. Let’s go get our boy,” Julia grins, and bounces off, back to where Alice and Kady have set up a spell circle, complete with candles and everything.

“Hey, where’s the baby?” Eliot asks, as they watch her engage her team in what seems like a last minute pep talk.

“Julia said 23’s home with her. Not exactly a kid friendly event.”

Eliot nods, then says, very carefully, “Q will be excited to meet her. He…he’s good with kids.”

That’s a loaded statement if she’s ever heard one. She’s heard all about _Quentin and kids_ , from Alice, who had read Quentin’s Library book and knew more than Eliot ever told her, but she’s going to let Eliot get to that in his own time. 

“Yeah? I can see that,” is what she settles on as a response.

The ritual has begun, and they watch from a distance as Julia, Alice, and Kady get to work, the hedges prowling around the circle with watchful eyes.

There’s not much to do but wait, and neither of them feel like talking. 

After awhile, though, the silence is too much. Eliot lets out a pained sigh and asks, almost desperately, “Do you think it’s working?”

“I don’t fucking know, El. They seem confident.”

She wishes so much she could tell him not to worry, that she’s sure it’s working, but she also can’t bring herself to lie.

“I love him so much, Margo,” Eliot chokes out, and he’s not crying, not exactly, but his voice is wrecked and _tight_ , like he’s about to either sob or scream. 

“Oh, _honey_. I know.”

She does. Even if she didn’t know until recently that Eliot loved him like _this_ , Eliot loves his friends fiercely, and it’s not hard to imagine that turning into…more, for Eliot and Q. It just makes sense. 

Besides, she’s always known, ever since Mike, that Eliot was a monogamist at heart. So...surprised, but not shocked, is how Margo would classify her thoughts on this whole revelation.

“If this doesn’t—I’ll never—”

“Shh, come here,” Margo says, and turns so that they’re holding each other, her arms wrapped around his waist and his chin resting on the top of her head.

They watch the goings-on in silence for awhile longer, their friends casting in unison, non-stop, not missing a beat. 

Nothing feels different though. Until it does. 

All at once, one of the nearby fountains lights up like a beacon has been lit from within it, and water gushes upward like a geyser.

“Oh, shit. Is that—”

“Margo! Eliot! Now! Go!” Kady shouts. 

Margo springs to action, tears herself away from Eliot’s embrace and starts to make a run for the fountain, but stops when she notices him frozen in place behind her. 

“El? Come on, this is it. We’re almost there.”

He looks scared, really, actively terrified. 

“I’m not sure I can—” 

“Well I say you can, and you know what else I say?” Margo says, reaching up to roughly grab his face in both her hands, “I say if you don’t do this, you’ll never forgive yourself. So I’m not letting that happen, _comprende_?”

The time for being nice is over, and she’s always known when Eliot needs her to be a little harsh. This is one of those times.

Eliot’s eyes widen in surprise, but then he nods, takes her hand, and they start to run. 

There’s a figure splashing around in the fountain, like it’s not sure if it’s trying to swim or drown. Margo reaches in to grab its arm, and—

“Holy—it’s actually—okay, help me grab him.”

It’s Quentin. It’s really him. Obviously, that was the point of this whole thing, but somehow, seeing him, his familiar nose and mouth, and too-short hair plastered to his face as he mindlessly gasps and kicks and flails, his eyes closed...well, it’s a lot.

“Fuck, he’s _heavy_ and he’s _fighting_ me. Come _on_ , Q, I’m trying to get you _out_ , stop being a little _shit_. El, can you—”

She manages to get ahold of one of Quentin’s arms and Eliot gets the other, and between them, they have enough leverage to just fucking _yank_ him up. He lies draped over the edge of the fountain, half in and half out of the water. Eliot wraps his arms around Quentin’s upper body and drags him the rest of the way up and over, and carefully, carefully lowers him to the ground.

Margo flips him over so he’s on his back, and holy fucking shit, it’s _Quentin_. He’s lying there, completely still now that he’s out of the water, and so _pale_. Margo crouches over him and Eliot hovers behind her, afraid.

“Is he…fuck, Bambi, he’s not breathing…”

Margo reaches out to brush Quentin’s hair off his forehead. She touches a hand to his chest. Nothing.

“Julia said they’d be finishing up the spell and that we’d have to give it a minute—“ she reminds Eliot, because Julia did say that, but nothing could’ve prepared her for how it feels in the moment.

“I can’t. I can’t look at… _fuck_ ,” Eliot yells, and scrambles up off the ground to pace, his breathing heavy.

 _Oh, Q_ , Margo thinks miserably, horrified to find herself on the verge of tears. _We’re so close. Please_. 

She closes her eyes and just. Waits. Julia said to wait. And Eliot can’t do it, so she will. 

And then—

“Margo?” 

His voice is small and weak, so she barely hears it and thinks she imagined it, but when Margo opens her eyes, Quentin’s are open too, blinking up at her in confusion. Margo finds herself letting out the strangest noise, like a weird little whine or maybe it’s a sob. 

“Oh my god. Look at you. Hi.” 

She reaches out to stroke his hair and he smiles.

“Um…hi. Where are we? Am I, like, back?”

“We’re in everybody’s favorite destination tourist spot. The Neitherlands. And, yeah. Welcome back, baby.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t think—where’s—is everyone…” Quentin tries to sit up, his eyes suddenly wide with worry. 

“Hey, hey, take it easy, slugger. Don’t try to get up just yet, okay? Everyone’s fine, we’re all good,” Margo laughs, and yeah, so what, maybe she’s sniffling back some tears, but who’s gonna tell. 

“El?”

“Yeah, he’s here,” Margo starts to say, before she realizes Quentin is actually looking over her shoulder, at Eliot himself, who is standing there, frozen in place, staring back. 

Before anyone can make a move, Julia is there, and when she sees Quentin she lets out an actual scream. 

“Oh my god. Q!”

“Jules?” Quentin says, and then they’re both crying and she’s flinging herself onto the ground and into his arms.

“ _Oh_ …thank you. Thank you,” Julia sobs, her face pressed into Quentin’s shoulder. “Oh fuck, Q, I missed you so much…” 

“Missed you too…” he mumbles, and fuck, Margo really is crying now, too, watching this. 

“Q, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”

“Hey, shh, no, c’mon,” he says, and Margo decides to give them a minute. 

She walks over to Eliot, still just staring, like he can’t believe his eyes. She takes his hand and he holds onto it, tight, but like he’s unaware he’s doing it. The only thing he’s aware of is Quentin, alive and whole and laughing as Julia only just seems to realize he’s soaking wet, and so is she, by association.

“Okay, we actually did think of this!” Julia giggles, wiping at her face. “Look, here’s a towel, do you think you can stand?”

Julia helps him to his feet, and wraps a towel protectively around his shoulders, and it’s only then that Margo notices Alice, who has been hanging back, apparently respecting that Julia has dibs on welcoming Quentin back to the land of the living. 

Kady and the hedges (cool name for a band, Margo will have to tell her later) need Julia’s help to close some loops with the spell, so she kisses Quentin on the cheek and rushes off, with a promise to be back in a few minutes. 

“Q?” Alice says, finally. 

When Quentin notices her, he jumps a little, as if surprised, and then smiles, clearly a little nervous. Shit, Margo can’t blame him. 

“Alice, hi. Um.”

Everyone seems to collectively hold their breaths. 

“I’m so glad you’re back, Q,” Alice says, and wraps her arms around Quentin in a tight hug, which he returns eagerly.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Margo is standing next to Eliot, so she sees it, when Quentin, still hugging Alice, opens his eyes. And looks directly at Eliot.

Margo sees his eyes widen, and she hears Eliot’s breath catch in his throat.

It’s corny as shit, but it feels like something around them shifts.

Alice notices it too, because she pulls away slightly to follow Quentin’s gaze. Quentin flushes and opens his mouth, an apology clearly on the way.

“It’s okay,” Alice says, and yeah, her voice is a little rueful; no blame there. But Margo believes her, thinking back to their drunken conversation, where Alice had said _and the thing is I don’t even think I wanted to really be with him in that way again either, you know? I just wanted him back in my life, but I…not like that, I’m pretty sure_. 

“Alice, I—” Quentin says, obviously feeling guilty, which, yeah, he should. True love or not, it was kind of a shitty move to pull on your ex-girlfriend. 

“I know. We can talk more later,” she leans over to kiss him on the cheek. “I’ll always care about you. No matter what, okay?”

This is weird to watch, and probably they should like, turn away, but Margo is _riveted_. 

“I. Yeah. Me too,” Quentin says, looking and sounding dazed, which only intensifies when Alice whispers something in his ear. He nods. 

“Now would you go over there? He looks like he’s going to pass out,” Alice says, and wow, she’s got jokes at a moment like this? Respect. 

Except, well. It’s not really a joke. Eliot does look like he’s about to pass out, and Margo thinks the only thing holding him up might be his grip on her hand.

Quentin slowly makes his way over to them, and Eliot just keeps squeezing her hand tighter and tighter. 

“El…” Quentin says, when he’s finally there. 

“Q…oh my god,” Eliot says back, and Margo tears free from his death grip, and reaches out to place his hand in Quentin’s instead.

“Let’s uh, go help Kady and Julia,” Margo says to Alice, and Alice nods gratefully at the suggestion. They book it away from the boys at a fast clip. 

Everything gets wrapped up fine with the spell, the hedges head off with the equipment—it’s pretty cool that Kady has like props people/personal assistants now that she’s the big head honcho—and soon there’s no reason to be hanging around in The Neitherlands anymore, which is a depressing prospect any time.

Margo needs to get a message to Fen and Josh, to let them know that it all worked out, and she herself has to get back there soon enough, too. 

“You coming back to New Fil?” she asks Alice, who actually laughs when a few years ago she would’ve just rolled her eyes. It’s progress. Margo hadn’t been lying; she actually had wanted to be Alice’s friend, back before everything went to shit. 

“New Fil? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“I mean it’s like, L.A. or something, you know. Just trying it out. New Fillory is kind of a mouthful.”

Alice nods. “Sure, I can see that. And…yeah, I think I’ll stick around for awhile. If…that’s okay with you.” 

Typical Alice. “Hey, you don’t need my permission. You’re one of the founders. We’re like Hogwarts, but way hotter, and on a grander scale. Oh, and without the racism.” 

Alice laughs again. “I never read those books, you know.”

Kady heads over then, and nods in Quentin and Eliot’s general direction. 

“We’re heading out. Who’s gonna go get them? I call not it, and Julia told me to tell you she also calls not it.”

Alice raises her eyebrows at her, and Margo shrugs. Yeah, fair enough. Alice shouldn’t have to deal with this.

She tries shouting at them from a distance, but, obviously, that does absolutely no fucking good at all, as they’re too busy shoving their tongues down each other’s throats to notice. 

When she gets closer, she hears a bunch of sappy shit she really didn’t need to hear:

“El...I love you so much.”

“I love you—”

“ _Kiss me_ , oh god, I missed you, please—”

And then, after a moment:

“Wait, I want to keep kissing you, but I’m so hungry. Fuck, I want Taco Bell.”

At that, Margo does have to laugh. 

“We’ll get you Taco Bell. Anything. Whatever you want, baby,” Eliot says, gazing down at him, starry eyed. 

“Do they still have crunchwraps? How long have I been gone? Please tell me they didn’t get rid of the crunchwraps.”

Quentin’s practically bouncing on his toes, so excited over the idea of eating shitty fast food. Well, if she had been dead for months, she probably would be too. 

“Oh Q, it’s adorable how you think I have any idea what’s on the menu at Taco Bell. Crunchwrap? Sounds _revolting_.”

“You’re such a snob,” Quentin says, delighted. 

“You love it,” Eliot says, and Quentin just nods and murmurs “yeah,” dreamily.

They’re clearly about to start sucking face again, and have not noticed Margo standing there, so she loudly clears her throat and stomps her foot.

“ _Ahem_. So sorry to interrupt, but we are about to blow this popsicle stand, boys. You care to join, or are you gonna hang around in this creepy-ass place all night. You wanna meet some more cannibals, El?”

They turn to her in surprise, as though she like, snuck up on them.

“Bambi!” Eliot says, keeping Quentin tucked close against his chest. Quentin smiles blissfully and waves at her. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Jesus. They are going to be _insufferable_. 

She manages to get them moving back towards the Earth fountain and ignores them whispering truly depraved things at each other. She thinks she catches something about “making love” though. Nauseating.

“Eliot’s taking me to Taco Bell!” Quentin announces, when they’re back with the rest of the group. “You guys should all come.” 

-

And that’s how they end up at Taco Bell at 11pm on a Tuesday evening, most of them still distinctly damp. For all her planning, Julia had not thought to bring an extra change of clothes for Quentin, in case he decided he needed to stop at Taco Bell on the way home from being resurrected.

Truth be told, when you've just worked up an appetite bringing a guy back from the dead, this shit ain't half bad. Everyone else seems to agree, as they've all put back a few tacos and/or burritos. Well, except for Eliot. He hasn't eaten a bite, probably because that would require doing something other than gazing at Quentin adoringly as he stuffs his face.

“This is so good. I love it. And I love you guys,” Quentin sighs, midway through his third crunchwrap. 

“Notice how it’s Taco Bell and then us,” Julia comments, rolling her eyes with fake annoyance. “And after all we did for you today.” 

“Mmhmm,” Quentin mumbles around another bite. He shifts closer to Eliot and tucks his arm more securely around his shoulders. They haven’t moved from that position since everyone sat down, but have notably refrained from doing anything more explicit, probably because of Alice. 

Alice, seated on the other side of the table and nibbling on cinnamon twists, seems fine with it, and hey. She had said she was okay, and Margo’s willing to take her word for it. 

Quentin does stop shoving food in his mouth for a few seconds when Julia pulls out her phone and shows him pictures of baby Hope Quentin, who is now a few months old. 

Not surprisingly, Quentin cries.

“She’s perfect,” he sniffles, wiping at his face with a crumpled paper napkin. “You named her after me? Really?”

Now Julia’s crying again, too. 

“Yeah. Of course I did. God, I can’t wait for you to meet her. I can’t believe…I didn’t think—”

They’re gripping each other’s hands across the table and sniffling. Eliot is looking down at Quentin, his eyes bright.

“Stop, or I’m going to start crying again, too,” Margo groans. “I think we’re freaking out the Taco Bell employees.”

“Oh believe me, they’ve seen weirder,” Kady laughs. 

Eventually, Quentin has had enough, and starts to yawn and rub his eyes. They decide to call it a night. 

Julia, after some more tearful hugs with Q and promises exchanged to meet up in the morning, heads home so Penny 23 can get some sleep and she can take the night shift with the baby. 

Alice heads off to give Fen and Josh the good news. 

Kady, of course, has endless hedge business to attend to, and she surprises everyone by pulling Quentin into a hug as she’s leaving. 

He hugs her back, pleased if a little tentative.

“Coldwater, glad you’re back. We all missed you.”

“Um. Wow. Thanks, Kady. Me too. I mean. I'm glad I'm back, too. And I also, uh, missed you.”

Classic Quentin, smooth as ever.

That leaves Margo, who is taking it upon herself to make sure her two idiots get home safely. Without supervision, it’s possible they’ll start macking on each other in the middle of the street and get hit by a car.

Of course, the question remains, where exactly is “home.”

“Should we take him back to the penthouse?” Margo wonders. She knows it’s empty. Kady still owns it, but she stays elsewhere.

“No. Not there. Please,” Quentin says in a rush, gripping Eliot’s shirt, his eyes wide. “I can’t be there. At least not tonight. Maybe eventually, but—”

“Okay, shh, baby, we don’t have to. I’ve got you,” Eliot’s voice is low and soothing, and that, combined with hand running gently through Quentin’s hair calms him down. 

Yeah. Not the greatest memories at that place for anyone. 

“Okay, then how about the cottage?” Margo suggests. “And I can catch the portal back to New Fillory from there, too. It’s how I got in. Alice set it up.”

Quentin agrees, and soon they’re back at Brakebills. 

Margo stops them before they enter the cottage. She starts to do a few quick tuts.

“Bambi, what are you doing?”

“I’m expelling that creepy ghost _fuck_ from the cottage and setting an anti-spirit ward.” 

And she’ll have to have a little chat with Dean Fogg sometime about making sure their resident ghost perv can’t spy on anyone _else_ on campus, either. But hey, she can only do so much in one day. And she thinks today can be considered a success.

“Thank you," Eliot says, his voice reverent. She can tell he doesn't just mean for the ward. "You’re a genius." 

Margo would really prefer not to cry any more tonight, so she decides to keep it light. Plenty of time for a deeper chat later. After all, now that they've figured out the whole travel situation, they'll be visiting each other all the time.

“Mmhmm. And shockingly, I’m _not_ the one teaching a class here.”

At that, Quentin frowns up at Eliot. “Wait, you’re _teaching_?”

“Oh now who’s a snob?” Eliot teases, a hand low on Quentin’s back as he leads him through the door of the cottage.

“I just mean it doesn’t sound like _you_ —fuck, I missed this place. Can we go to your room? I want to be in your bed. I fantasized about it, back then.”

“ _Q_ ,” Eliot says, completely awed, and then oh okay, yep, they’re kissing again. 

Margo side-steps them as Eliot backs Q into the wall. 

“Okay boys, normally you know I’m down to watch, but I have a feeling there’s gonna be a lot of crying, and that’s _not_ what I’m into, so—”

“Eliot?”

 _Holy fuckballs._ Margo jumps in the air and nearly pisses her pants. 

She had completely forgotten that, in fact, the cottage is _not_ empty. So did Eliot. 

“Shit. Charlton. Um. Hi?” he says, not really pulling away from Quentin at all. 

It’s very clear to everyone what’s going on, except maybe to Quentin, but judging by his narrowed eyes and Charlton’s goofy kicked puppy expression, Margo thinks he’s getting a pretty good idea. 

He pushes Eliot away from him and crosses his arms. 

“Who the fuck is _this_?” Quentin says. 

-

Margo takes it upon herself to find Charlton some new lodging. She may not care for the guy, but he certainly doesn’t need to stick around for the argument Quentin and Eliot are having, and she doesn’t really want to be here, either. 

She drags Charlton out by the arm, and closes the door of the cottage behind them, but not before they hear, “you were going to fuck _that guy_?” and “Q, baby, please, I thought you were gone forever. You _know_ you’re the only one I—”

Well. If it hadn’t been crystal clear before where things stood…it certainly is now. 

“Sorry,” Margo says, because what the fuck else is she supposed to do. 

“No you’re not,” is the terse response she gets. Fuck, she really hopes he’s not going to start crying. Eliot's tears, Quentin's, the rest of the gang? Fine. But this? A step too far. 

“Look, you’re right,” Margo sighs. “I'm not really sorry. Eliot and Q are my best friends and they’re in love. What the fuck am I supposed to say?”

Charlton doesn’t answer. 

They continue their trek across campus in silence. She really could leave it alone. This isn’t her business. She really doesn’t even give a shit.

But Eliot is a good person, and Charlton is his….what is he, Eliot’s friend? Sure, let’s go with that. And she thinks Eliot would want her to give a shit, just a little, while he’s otherwise occupied. So she takes a deep breath and goes for it. 

“I know this sounds like I’m just being an asshole, but this is really for the best, for you too. No one wants to be with someone who’s hung up on someone else.” She pauses and takes a glance over at Charlton, to see if this is getting through to him at all. “You and Eliot, it wouldn’t have worked out anyway, even if Q never came back.” 

“I don’t think you can know—”

“Mm, no, pretty sure I can. Rebound relationships are always a bad call. And you really need to meet some other people. You can’t just decide the first guy you meet is the one, okay? Believe me, you’ll regret it later.” 

They’re outside the admin building now, and thus ends their journey, and Margo’s Advice Corner. 

“Get out there and have fun,” she concludes, reaching out to punch Charlton on the arm in what is meant to be a friendly _go get ‘em, champ_ gesture, but he just looks confused. Right. Not well-versed in modern social interactions. She forgot for a second. 

“I haven’t met any ‘other people’ in a very long time,” Charlton comments as they climb the steps of the building. 

“Yeah, I get that. It’ll be scary. But worth it.” 

Margo leads him into Dean Fogg’s office area, where she expects to find ol’ Henry drinking the night away, like he would be on a regular weekday evening. Instead, she sees—

“Todd?”

Todd snaps his head up where he’d been at the desk, bent over a stack of papers, and smiles brightly when he sees her. _Too brightly_ she can hear Eliot groaning. 

“Margo! Hello! What do I owe this honor? Last I heard you were off being a badass ruler in New Fillory. Congrats on that, by the way.”

“Uh, thanks, Todd,” Margo says, weirdly flattered. “Yeah, I’m headed back there soon. Just here on a little…errand. What about you? Shouldn’t you have graduated by now?”

Todd looks thrilled that Margo remembers. 

“Yes! I have, thank you, with honors. I’m now Dean Fogg’s administrative assistant.”

“I’m so sorry?” Margo says. The hours suck; it's nearly midnight and he's here doing paperwork?

“No, no need to apologize. It’s my dream job.” Todd enthuses, looking for all the world like he means it.

“Oh. Well. In that case, congratulations. And I think you’ll love the fun little uh, puzzle I have for you today.”

Margo fills him in on their dilemma—well, she leaves some stuff out, since she doesn’t think Eliot would want Todd knowing that much about his sex life. 

Todd expresses enthusiasm at Quentin’s return (“That’s fantastic! Love that guy!”) and nods thoughtfully when Margo brings up the whole sleeping situation. 

“It just so happens there’s some extra room in staff housing, where I am now residing, after Eliot kicked me out of the Physical Kids cottage—which I more than understand! He needs his privacy, and I am but a lowly admin, not faculty like he is…”

Margo doesn’t point out that Todd actually has a _degree_ from Brakebills unlike Eliot, or well, her, for that matter. Apparently nothing can stop Todd’s Eliot hero worship. 

“But, like I was saying,” Todd continues, turning to Charlton, who is awkwardly standing there and saying nothing, as usual. “I’m sure Dean Fogg won’t mind if you bunk there for awhile. Well. He won’t notice, is more like it, but still! Whaddaya say, roomie?”

Charlton, taken aback by Todd’s whole…deal, looks to _Margo_ , like she’s his fucking mentor now, or something? Shit. 

“Todd is very well connected. He’ll introduce you to all kinds of people,” she says, because if there’s one thing you can say about Todd, it’s certainly that he knows everyone worth knowing on campus.

“Oh hells yeah! We will party it _up_ ,” Todd agrees, and raises his hand like he wants Charlton to fist bump him. 

Margo puts a stop to that. “Mm, maybe not too much partying too fast, Todd. He’s—his family is like super old fashioned so he’s not used to, you know. The Physical Kid pace just yet.”

Todd nods knowingly. “Ah, gotcha. Well in that case, we will party at a fun, but reasonable pace. Sound good?”

“Um...sure,” Charlton finally agrees. Thank fucking _Christ_. 

“Great. Let’s get you settled in. Do you have any stuff with you?” Todd asks, and Charlton shakes his head. 

Whoops. They’d sort of neglected to grab anything in the rush to get out of the cottage, but it’s not like Charlton has many worldly possessions, anyway. Except for his diary, which he's clutching in his hands. Margo can tell there's going to be quite the entry in there tonight, some real _Are You There, God? It's Me, Charlton_ stuff.

He really is a sad sack. He'll do well with Todd, who will take him under his wing with gusto.

“Ah, don’t worry, we can go pick it up it in the morning. I have some pj’s you can borrow. Margo, I can take it from here. I know you have more important things to get back to,” Todd says. 

“I _do_ , Todd. Thank you for recognizing that. See ya, Charlie.”

She waves at them and heads out. 

“Charlie? That’s kinda fun. Should I call you that?” she hears Todd asking as the door slams behind her. 

Good. About time someone gave that guy a nickname. 

-

Margo feels pretty confident that Q and Eliot will have worked out their little spat by that point. After all they’ve been through, it’s not like _Charlton_ is a major threat. 

She takes a moment to marvel that Quentin was able to eat all that Taco Bell and is now almost definitely getting fucked. The wonders of magic. 

She’s planning on using the makeshift portal to New Fillory, which Alice had set up in the Brakebills library. She's looking forward to getting back; hopefully Fen is up for some celebrating, now that they have Eliot's _blessing_. But first, she stops by the cottage and cracks open the door and listens, just to make sure.

It doesn’t sound like they even made it to the bedroom. 

“El…yes, oh my god…I missed you…”

“You like that, baby? Yeah, I remember…God, you’re so beautiful—”

“Tell me again...tell me—”

“Just you. You’re the only one. Forever, Q, I promise…” 

“ _Please_ —” 

Disgusting. Just as she predicted. 

Margo smiles, sets a silencing ward on the place just in case, and shuts the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the song "Where You're Coming From" by Matt and Kim.
> 
> No, I absolutely do not know what spell they did to bring Q back or how it would've worked in The Neitherlands. It just seemed like a cool location and let's be honest, I just want Quentin back and don't care how it happens. They could've had him just appear in a random IKEA (which absolutely could be portals to another world as far as I'm concerned!) and I would've been like, "cool."
> 
> Margo gave more consideration to Charlton than I initially planned, but like...she's a fixer, ya know? I'm personally really getting a kick out of imagining Charlton's "what a sad, strange day it's been" diary thoughts. 
> 
> I loved Margo and Fen as a concept, before all the bs, and I decided, you know what, no, we're claiming this now. It can be good again!
> 
> I like to think that Julia and 23 will break up but amicably co-parent.
> 
> I share Quentin's adoration of Taco Bell, particularly the crunchwraps (sub black beans)! Baby Quentin wanting Taco Bell in episode 2 was one of the only good things about the season. One of the other good parts of the season was Eliot accidentally murdering Josh with a swarm of bees, which was hilarious and should've been allowed to stand.
> 
> Please come say hi on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/tomelettesandgreggs), if you'd like. It'll encourage me to use it more!


End file.
